UBRARY 


I 


* 


i. 


flAMAH  HAWKINS, 


THB 


REFORMED  DRUNKARD'S 
DAUGHTER. 

BY  REV.  JOHN  MARSH. 


"Temperance  is  an  oasis,  a  grten  spot  in  the  desert  of  human  life.' 

FATHEH  MATHEW. 


FOURTH     EDITION. 


NEW  YORK: 
AMERICAN1  TEMPERANCE  UNION. 

1846. 


• 


Entered  according  to  an  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1843,  by 

JOHN    MARSH, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  the  State  of  New  York. 


I 


S.  W.  BENEDICT  &  CO.,  STER.  AND  PRINT., 

16  Spruce  Street,  New  York. 


TO    LUCIUS    MANLIUS    SARGENT,   ESQ. 

SIR:— 

By  a  series  of  tales,  founded  on  fact,  but  embellished 
and  adorned  by  your  graphic  pen,  you  were  a  favored  instru- 
ment of  rousing  the  American  people  to  the  suppression  of 
a  vice,  which  was  not  only  breaking  the  hearts  and  wasting 
the  lives  of  thousands,  but  sapping  the  very  foundations  of 
our  civil  and  religious  institutions.  Although,  in  the  recent 
extraordinary  advance  of  the  work  of  reform,  your  heart  has 
been  pained  by  scenes  which  none  in  their  sober  judgments 
can  approve,  yet,  in  the  gathering  up  of  results,  we  behold 
a  harvest  of  miracles,  which  cannot  fail  to  make  us  all 
thankful  that  we  have  shared  a  part  in  its  accomplishment. 
Fiction  has  given  place  to  strange  reality.  What  we  once 
fancied  in  the  wide  reformation  of  intemperate  husbands 
and  fathers,  and  the  elevation  of  depressed  families  to  com 
fort, respectability ,  and  usefulness,  has  now  been  witnessed; 
and  notwithstanding  some  sad  relapses,  over  which  we 
weep,  the  happy  scenes  of  "  The  Mother's  Gold  Ring,"  no 
longer  an  isolated  case,  are  subjects  of  gratulation  and  joy 
in  all  parts  of  our  beloved  country.  That  your  pen  may 
1* 


VI  DEDICATION. 

still  be  employed  to  secure  a  wise  and  vigorous  prosecu- 
tion of  this  most  philanthropic  enterprise,  though  its  caus- 
tic point  may  be  dreaded  by  men,  greedy  of  gain,  who  will 
sell  the  poison,  and  by  the  votaries  of  fashion  and  folly, 
who  must  tread  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice  lest  they  walk 
with  the  vulgar  on  the  broad  terra  firma,  is  the  sincere  wish 
of  thousands  who,  with  their  families,  have  been  saved 
from  ruin,  and  who  pray  for  the  wide  extension  of  salutary 
principles  among  future  generations. 

If  by  seizing  upon  an  incident  in  the  reformation  of  one 
•who  has  been  distinguished  for  his  rescue,  from  the  fangs  of 
the  rumseller,  through  his  own  child,  and  for  his  untiring 
labors  in  the  cause  of  temperance,  the  writer  can,  in  this 
little  book,  instruct  and  interest  the  children  and  youth 
who  are  coming  up  to  take  our  places,  he  shall  be  indeed 
happy  in  presenting  it  to  you,  both  as  a  token  of  his  pro- 
found respect  and  sincere  affection,  and  in  gratitude  for  the 
numerous  favors  received  at  your  hands. 

New  York,  December*,  1843. 


HANNAH  HAWKINS. 


IT  was  some  time  in  the  summer  of  1841,  that 
the  writer  of  this  little  book  was  travelling  to  the 
North,  when,  on  leaving  a  railroad  car  to  go  a 
few  miles  to  visit  a  friend,  he  stepped  into  a  small 
stage-coach,  in  which  were  seated  a  well-dressed 
man  and  woman  with  three  children  j  the  eldest, 
a  neat,  tidy  looking  girl  of  thirteen ;  the  others, 
younger  but  who  seemed  to  be  full  of  enjoyment, 
in  noticing  everything  of  a  rural  nature,  showing 
that  they  had  been  brought  up  in  a  city,  and  knew 
little  of  country  scenes. 

The  mother  was  of  a  delicate,  tender  texture, 
and  evinced,  by  a  pensive  look,  that  she  had  seen 
days  of  sadness ;  but  there  was  now  and  then  a 
kindling  up  of  the  eye  and  a  cheerful  smile,  which 
betokened  that  better  days  were  breaking  in  upon 
her.  The  father  had  a  frank  and  manly  counte- 
nance, a  piercing  eye,  with  a  voice  unusually 
pleasant :  and  though  it  was  manifest  that  his 


8  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

education  was  of  an  ordinary  character,  yet  there 
was  discoverable  in  him  a  vigor  of  thought  and 
power  of  expression,  which  soon  showed  that  he 
was  to  be  neither  an  unpleasant  nor  unprofitable 
travelling  companion. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  addressed  himself  to 
his  wife  as  Mrs.  Hawkins ;  and,  in  a  little  time, 
he  spoke  to  his  daughter,  saying,  "  Hannah,  look 
there,  my  child,  see  that  poor  hut ;  I  suppose 
some  miserable  drunkard  lives  there,  who,  like 
your  once  poor,  unfortunate  father,  is  giving  him- 
self up  to  the  intoxicating  cup,  and  becoming  a 
sore  affliction  and  trial  to  all  whom  God  has  com- 
mitted to  his  care."  The  group  seemed  much 
affected  at  the  sight ;  and,  as  a  little  girl,  with 
neither  stockings  nor  shoes,  and  scarce  any  cover- 
ing but  a  ragged  frock,  peeped  from  behind  the 
house,  Hannah  said,  "  She  is  a  pretty  girl  j  I 
wish  I  could  give  her  something." 

Our  little  company  thus  learned  that  they 
were  associated,  in  the  stage  coach,  with  John 
H.  W.  Hawkins,  the  reformed  Baltimorean  drunk- 
ard, and  his  family,  who  were  on  their  way  to 
Massachusetts,  where  the  mother  and  children 
•were  to  be  sustained  by  the  friends  of  temper- 
ance, while  the  father  should  go  from  town  to 


HANNAH    HAWKINS. 


town,  and  from  city  to  city,  relating  his  affecting 
experience,  and  becoming,  under  God,  the  instru- 
ment of  delivering  other  miserable  inebriates  from 
the  degradation  and  wo  from  which  he  had  been 
rescued. 

The  remainder  of  the  ride,  which  lasted  but  a 
few  hours,  was  one  of  interest  to  all  ;  for,  with- 
out any  feelings  of  shame  which  might  have  led 
them  to  conceal  the  truth,  or  any  undue  eleva- 
tion from  the  decent  appearance  which  they  now 
made  in  their  new  apparel  or  from  the  brighten- 
ing prospects  before  them,  this  rescued  family 
gave,  without  hesitation,  though  often  with  strong 
emotion,  an  account  of  all  their  deep  debasement 
and  severe  sufferings. 

In  the  daughter,  as  the  instrument  of  her  fa- 
ther's rescue,  the  company  took  a  peculiar  inte- 
rest ',  and  though  she  was  a  modest  and  diffident 
child,  they  found  she  had  more  than  usual  strength 
of  character,  and  could  readily  believe  all  that 
was  told  of  her  in  this  extraordinary  transaction. 

Months  and  years  have  since  passed,  but  a 
distinct  recollection  of  this  interview,  connected 
with  the  many  interesting  results  of  her  father's 
reformation,  have  led  the  writer  to  collect  toge- 
ther whatever  he  could  learn  of  this  child  and 


I 

10  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

the  circumstances  attending  the  change  in  the 
habits  of  her  father,  and  present  them,  with  suit- 
able reflections,  in  a  small  volume ;  partly  for 
the  entertainment  and  instruction  of  children  of 
her  own  sex,  and  partly  as  a  standing  memorial 
of  what  has  proved  to  be  an  extraordinary  era 
in  the  temperance  reformation. 

At  the  time  of  her  birth,  which  was  about  the 
year  1828,  in  the  city  of  Baltimore,  the  temper- 
ance reformation  had  taken  root  in  the  country ; 
and  many  excellent  men,  alarmed  at  the  increase 
of  drunkenness,  with  its  consequent  poverty, 
•crime,  and  premature  mortality,  had  resolved  that 
they  would  abandon  the  use  of  all  ardent  spirits, 
and  try  to  save  their  children  from  intemperate 
habits.  But  it  was  then  supposed  to  be  almost 
impossible  to  reclaim  the  confirmed  inebriate.  If 
any  individual  had  so  far  given  himself  up  to  the 
intoxicating  cup  as  to  be  seen  staggering  about 
the  streets,  or  coming  home  drunk  at  the  mid- 
night hour,  to  abuse  his  wife  and  children,  he 
was  viewed  as  past  recovery.  The  poor  unfor- 
tunate drunkard's  burning  appetite  so  raged  for 
rum,  that  he  would  sacrifice  every  comfort  to  ob- 
tain it ;  even  pawn  his  clothes  and  his  Bible,  and 
leave  all  his  once  dear  little  ones  to  the  greatest 


HANNAH  HAWKINS.  11 

sufferings ;  and  it  was  thought  that  he  must  drink 
on,  at  least  moderately,  till  he  perished,  either 
by  some  fall  from  a  horse,  or  by  being  drowned 
in  a  pond,  or  frozen  in  a  pitiless  storm.  His 
own  persuasion  was,  that  he  should  die  if  he  did 
not  drink  :  nor  was  he  alone  in  this, — it  was  the 
belief  of  the  community  around  him,  and  even  of 
many  physicians  from  whom  he  would  seek  re- 
lief in  his  infirmities. 

At  that  period  there  were  supposed  to  be  in 
the  United  States  not  less  than  three,  hundred 
thousand  common  drunkards.  The  most  of  them 
were  husbands  and  fathers.  Many  had  large 
families.  Their  houses  were  generally  known 
by  the  broken  door-yard  fence;  the  fallen  gate%; 
the  windows  stuffed  with  old  hats  and  rags ;  the 
clapboards  dangling  in'  the  air ;  the  barns  held 
up  by  props  and  stripped  of  their  boards,  which 
had  been  used  for  fuel ;  a  half-starved  horse 
standing  in  the  street,  and  several  ragged  child- 
ren, who,  without  hats  or  shoes,  spent  their  days 
in  dragging  brush-wood  from  the  neighboring 
forests,  or  in  begging  pennies  from  door  to  door, 
to  buy  their  mother  a  loaf  of  bread. 

In  the  interior,  little  was  visible  either  of  neat- 
ness or  comfort.     No  bed  but  one  of  straw,  laid 


HANNAH    HAWKINS. 


on  knotted  ropes ;  here  a  show  of  a  table,  and 
there  a  broken  chair.  A  half  dozen  broken 
plates,  rusty  knives  and  forks,  and  iron  spoons ; 
a  mug  for  cider,  and  a  bottle  for  rum.  Neither 
carpet  nor  plastering  were  there — if  it  was  win- 
ter, the  snow  would  often  lie  upon  the  bed,  and 
the  mother  and  hei  children  be  seen  huddled  to- 
gether over  a  few  embers,  as  their  only  refuge. 
Night  would  come,  but  no  sound  of  a  father's 
voice  with  comfortable  food  to  cheer  and  glad- 
den. The  children  would  cry  themselves  to  sleep. 
The  mother  would  sit  and  "  watch  the  moon 
go  down,"  till  distant  footsteps  were  heard,  and 
horrid  oaths  vented  at  not  finding  the  door,  caus- 
ing her  heart  to  quail ;  and  a  monster  in  human 
shape,  but  the  father  of  her  children,  would  burst 
upon  her,  and  perhaps  drive  her  out  in  the  cold  and 
dreary  night,  even  in  a  pitiless  storm,  compelling 
her  to  leave  her  babes  to  his  neglect  or  cruelties. 
These  were  homes  witnessed  in  almost  every 
neighborhood.  The  inhabitants  were  as  accus- 
tomed to  the  spectacle  as  a  necessary  appendage 
to  their  village,  as  the  church,  the  school-house, 
the  tavern,  the  dram-shop,  or  the  comfortable 
home  of  the  sober  and  the  frugal ;  and  it  attract- 
ed no  particular  notice,  unless  there  went  forth, 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  13 

at  the  midnight  hour,  a  cry  of  murder :  and  then, 
for  a  little  season,  all  thought  something  must  be 
done ;  the  wife  must  swear  the  peace  upon  her 
husband,  and  he,  by  authority,  be  sent  to  jail. 
But  this  she  would  not  do  ;  he  was  her  husband ; 
he  promised  to  reform,  and  things  would  be  left 
to  pass  on  much  as  before. 

The  writer  of  this  once  went  to  a  funeral  in  a 
drunkard's  home.  It  was  the  funeral  of  a  little 
child.  The  house  had  but  two  small  rooms.  In 
one,  in  which  was  the  corpse,  and  where  the 
prayer  was  made,  was  a  bed  of  straw,  on  which 
lay  the  drunkard's  wife,  too  sick  to  rise.  He 
well  remembers  the  outer  covering,  which  was 
all  of  rags,  stitched  together.  Under  her  head 
was  no  pillow.  She  seemed  a  woman  of  deep 
sorrow.  Her  miserable  husband  tried  to  act  the 
part  of  a  man,  but  while  the  people  were  assem- 
bling, he  went  twice  to  his  bottle,  and  became 
officious  and  troublesome  in  regulating  the  cere- 
monies. One  little  boy  and  three  girls,  clothed 
by  the  neighbors  in  black,  went  with  him,  follow- 
ing the  coffin  of  their  young  brother  to  the  grave. 
It  was  a  sad  spectacle,  and  yet  it  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  Christian  community,  and  the  indivi- 
dual who  day  by  day  sold  him  rum,  was  a  mem- 
2 


14  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

ber  of  a  Christian  church.     Such  "was  the  dark- 
ness of  the  times.* 

Sometimes  the  drunkard  was  a  man  of  wealth, 
living  in  luxury  and  splendor.  His  groves,  his 
gardens,  his  walks,  the  furniture  of  his  house,  all 
betokened  great  prosperity  to  him,  or,  more  gen- 
erally, to  his  father  before  him.  But  0,  the 
agony  within !  Few  knew  its  depth.  Occasion- 
ally the  fair,  the  beautiful,  but  heart-broken  wife, 
would  communicate  to  a  friend  the  distresses  of 
her  soul — her  sinking  of  heart  when  she  first  dis- 
covered that  her  own  husband,  and  the  father  ot 
her  sons  and  daughters,  was  a  drunkard — the 
repeated  mortifications  she  had  experienced  at 
his  staggering  gait,  and  silly  speech,  and  unbe- 
coming behavior ;  and,  most  of  all.  her  terrible 
sufferings  at  the  midnight  hour,  when,  in  his 
drunken  mania,  he  had  dragged  her,  from  room 
to  room,  by  the  hair  of  her  head.  These  were 
secrets  known  to  few,  and  yet  those  who  knew 
them  would  still  keep  the  wine  cup  flowing. 
Such  was  the  united  power  of  appetite  and 
fashion  ;  such  the  pride  of  wealth. 

*  The  writer  is  happy  to  say.  that  this  man  has  since 
been  entirely  reformed,  and  now  provides  well  for  his 
family!  he  is  a  respectable  member  of  the  commuuty,  and 
frequents  the  house  of  God  on  the  Sabbath. 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  15 

Not  in  a  house  of  this  character  did  little  Han- 
nah have  her  birth  ;  but  in  one  of  deepest  desti- 
tution. The  following  is  the  account  her  father 
once  gave  of  himself  in  a  public  meeting : 

"  I  was  born  of  respectable  parents,  and  was 
educated  by  a  minister,  and  then  bound  out  to 
the  hatting  business,  in  as  perfect  a  grog-shop  as 
ever  existed.  A  few  days  before  I  left  Baltimore 
I  found  the  old  books  of  my  master ;  there  were 
the  names  of  sixty  men  upon  it,  and  we  could 
recollect  but  one  that  did  not  go  to  a  drunkard's 
grave.  Another  hatter  says  it  was  just  so  on  his 
books.  At  one  time  there  were  twelve  of  us  as 
apprentices;  eight  of  the  twelve  have  died  drunk- 
ards ;  one  is  now  in  the  almshouse  in  Cincinnati, 
one  in  the  almshouse  of  Baltimore,  one  is  keep- 
ing a  tavern  in  Baltimore,  and  here  am  I. 

u  For  a  while  I  was  prosperous,  notwithstand- 
ing I  drank  on  ;  I  did  not  expect  the  appetite  to 
conquer  me.  When  twenty-two  years  old,  in 
18 18,  I  went  to  the  West.  As  soon  as  I  was 
away  from  parental  care,  [  gave  way  ;  all  went 
by  the  board,  and  my  sufferings  commenced.  For 
six  months  I  had  no  shoes,  and  only  one  shirt 
and  one  pair  of  pantaloons.  Then  I  was  a  vaga- 
bond indeed.  But  I  returned,  ragged  and  bloat- 


16  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

ed,  to  my  mother's  home.  When  I  got  to  the 
edge  of  the  town,  I  was  ashamed  even  to  walk 
on  the  ground  of  my  nativity.  In  the  dusk  of 
evening,  I  crept  along  to  ray  mother's,  and  was 
soon  dressed  up  decently.  My  mother  only  said, 
'John,  I  am  afraid  you  are  bloated.'  I  then 
drank  nothing  for  a  while ;  but  it  was  so  hard  to 
do  without,  that  at  length  I  took  a  glass  of  ale, 
and  all  was  over  with  me  again :  my  appetite 
rushed  on  like  a  flood  and  carried  all  before  it. 
And  for  fifteen  years,  time  after  time,  I  rose  and 
fell ;  was  up  and  down ;  would  quit  all,  and  then 
take  a  little  glass.  I  would  earn  $15  a  week, 
be  happy  and  well,  and  with  my  money  in  hand 
start  for  home,  and  in  some  unaccountable  way, 
imperceptibly  and  irresistibly  fall  into  a  tavern, 
and  think  one  glass  only  would  do  me  good.  But 
I  found  a  single  glass  of  ale  would  conquer  all 
my  resolutions." 

At  another  time  he  said,  he  was  a  genteel 
drunkard,  well  dressed,  yet  not  different  from  the 
drunkard  clothed  in  rags.  He  would  often  get 
a  ten  dollar  bill  changed  ;  go  and  buy  a  single 
glass,  fully  determined  not  to  take  more,but  that 
would  prove  a  fatal  glass,  and  he  would  drink 
himself  to  the  most  degrading  drunkenness,  blast- 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  17 

ing  all  the  hopes  of  his  wife  and  children.  <£  He 
was  a  moderate  drinker  when  he  married.  His 
wife  never  dreamed  of  any  risk.  But  0,  what 
suffering  had  she  not  endured  !" 

O 

What  the  early  joys  and  sorrows  of  little  Han- 
nah were,  cannot,  of  course,  be  here  narrated. 
It  is  kindly  ordered  by  our  heavenly  Father,  that 
the  children  of  the  poor  and  the  vicious  know  but 
little,  in  their  younger  days,  of  their  condition,  as 
compared  with  that  of  other  children,  or  of  what 
it  might  be,  if  their  parents  were  faithful  to  them- 
selves, or  to  those  committed  to  their  trust.  Like 
the  little  animals,  they  have  great  enjoyment  in 
the  use  of  their  limbs,  in  the  scanty  fare  that  is 
imparted  to  them,  and  in  all  their  juvenile  sports 
and  plays.  Even  on  their  miserable  beds,  and 
with  snow  upon  the  rags  which  cover  them,  their 
sleep  is  sweet ;  and  at  the  morning  dawn,  the 
drunkard's  hovel  often  rings  with  the  merry  voices 
of  his  unoffending  but  hapless  children. 

The  writer  once  often  passed  the  home  of  a 
drunkard,  and  he  was  impressed  with  the  cheer- 
ful faces,  the  loud  halloo,  and  merry  laugh  of  his 
little  boys,  as,  in  bleak  November,  they  were 
dragging  brush  from  the  neighboring  woods,  as 
fuel  for  their  fire.  Kind  Providence !  he  ex- 
2* 


18  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

claimed,  as  he  contrasted  the  condition  of  these 
children  with  those  of  some  wealthy  families, 
whose  little  ones  are  first  ruined  by  hot  rooms, 
downy  beds,  and  rich  cake,  and  then  pine  away 
under  patent  drugs  and  nostrums. 

It  is  only  as  the  child  of  the  drunkard  advances 
in  life,  that  it  learns  the  degradation  of  its  condi- 
tion, and  feels  the  iron  entering  the  soul.  When 
the  little  girl  sees  her  mates,  with  whom  she  once 
played  on  terms  of  perfect  equality  (for  little 
children  in  a  neighborhood  make  no  distinction 
of  rank),  now  pass,  in  their  neat  dress,  with  their 
books  and  satchels,  on  their  way  to  school,  and 
avoid  her— when  the  little  party  is  made  in  the 
village,  and  she  is  not  invited — when  the  Sabbath 
bell  rings,  and  she  cannot  go  to  the  Sunday- 
school,  for  she  has  neither  shoes  nor  decent 
clothing ;  above  all,  when  she,  now  a  tall  and 
comely  girl,  is  compelled  to  go,  day  after  day,  to 
the  store,  with  her  father's  jug  for  rum,  and  is 
pointed  at  by  the  rude  boys  as  the  drunkard's 
daughter ;  then  it  is  that,  with  bitter  tears,  she 
asks,  why  is  it  thus  ? 

It  is  a  merciful  Providence  to  the  intemperate 
parent,  that  filial  feelings  are  not  destroyed  by 
the  degradation,  and  even  cruel  suffering,  to  which 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  19 

a  child  may  be  subjected.  On  the  contrary,  the 
child  pities  his  infirmities,  and  strives  to  screen 
him  from  the  abuse  of  rude  boys,  and  protect  him 
from  the  tempest  which  would  beat  too  heavily 
upon  his  head. 

The  writer  has  not  unfrequently  seen  the  little 
boy  endeavoring  to  lead  his  poor,  unfortunate 
father  home,  crying,  and  entreating  him  to  leave 
the  log  on  which  he  was  sitting,  for  the  nightfall 
was  coming,  and  he  would  freeze  if  he  remained 
there  till  morning.  And  the  reader  of  this  little 
book  may  well  remember  the  story  of  a  gentle- 
man in  St.  Louis,  who  was  found  drunk  in  the 
street  by  a  sailor,  who  urged  him  to  go  home : 
but  the  gentleman,  by  profession  an  actor,  conti- 
nued to  drink,  until  he  fell  to  the  ground.  Just 
as  the  watch  were  about  removing  him  to  prison, 
a  little  girl,  about  eight  years  old,  barefooted  and 
ragged,  came  into  the  room,  sobbing  most  bit- 
terly. No  sooner  did  she  see  her  father,  than  she 
ran  to  him  and  knelt  down  by  his  side,  saving, 
"  Don't  take  my  father  away  while  he  sleeps." 
It  was  a  sight,  said  the  account,  to  wring  the 
heart  of  more  than  a  man  to  see  that  pure  and 
innocent  creature,  with  her  little  head  bare,  and 
her  white  shoulders  peeping  out  from  her  tattered 


I 

20  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

frock,  leaning  with  fond  affection  on  her  drunken 
father,  as  if  her  affection  strengthened  with  the 
unworthiness  of  the  object.  At  length  the  sailor 
came  forward,  and  speaking  kindly  to  the  little 
girl,  took  her  away  in  his  arms,  wrapping  her 
little  feet  carefully  in  the  skirts  of  his  coat.  When 
the  wretched  man  came  to  himself  in  the  watch- 
house  in  the  morning,  he  said,  "  I  was  not  always 
the  miserable  wretch  to  which  drunkenness  has 
reduced  me.  But  I  contracted  bad  habits,  my 
business  was  neglected,  my  wife  died  of  a  broken 
heart.  I  have  wandered  without  a  home  in  search 
of  whiskey.  I  have  yet  a  daughter ;  at  least,  I 
had  yesterday,  a  beautiful  creature,  who  s'ill 
loves  me,  despite  of  my  unworthiness."  At  this 
moment  the  sailor  entered  the  room  with  the  lit- 
tle girl,  of  whom  he  had  taken  a  kind  care,  and 
placed  her  in  her  father's  arms.  The  tears  of 
the  father  flowed  freely,  nor  was  there  a  dry  eye 
in  the  room. 

Hannah  Hawkins  early  discovered  strong  sym- 
pathies for  her  father.  When  sober,  he  was  a 
pleasant  father;  and  driving,  as  he  sometimes 
would  for  months,  a  good  business,  as  a  hatter, 
he  would  bring  his  family  many  comforts.  She 
knew,  too,  that  he  was  fallen,  and  did  not  occupy 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  21 

the  place  that  he  should  in  his  native  city.  When 
she  went  occasionally  to  her  grandmother's,  than 
whom  there  was  not  a  more  venerable  and  excel- 
lent woman  in  the  city  of  Baltimore,  and  stopped 
in  at  the  houses  of  her  aunts,  and  saw  their  neat 
carpets,  and  handsome  furniture,  and  well  sup- 
plied tables,  she  could  not  but  contrast  it  all  with 
the  wretched  destitution  of  her  father's  house. 
But  what  prompted  in  her  a  deeper  sympathy  for 
her  poor  father,  was,  perhaps,  the  sickness  of  her 
mother.  Mrs.  Hawkins  was  often  weeks  and 
months  confined  to  her  bed,  and  then  it  was  that 
little  Hannah  was  compelled  to  put  forth  her  in- 
fant energies  to  save  her  father. 

The  writer  once  heard  Mr.  Hawkins  relate 
the  following,  in  a  public  meeting  in  the  city  of 
New  York.  "  I  would  come  home,  late  at  night, 
open  the  door,  and  fall  prostrate  on  the  floor, 
utterly  unable  to  move.  My  daughter  Hannah, 
sitting  up  for  me,  and  watching  with  her  poor 
sick  mother,  would  come  down  with  a  pillow 
and  a  blanket ;  and  there,  as  she  could  not  raise 
me  and  get  me  up  stairs,  she  would  put  the  pil- 
low under  my  head  and  cover  me  with  the  blan- 
ket, and  then  lie  down  beside  me  like  a  faithful 
dog.  I  would  feel  it  to  the  bottom  of  my  soul. 


22 


HANNAH    HAWKINS. 


It  cut.  me  to  the  quick,  and  I  would  say, '  Han- 
nah, why  do  you  not  go  up  to  your  poor  sick 
mother  ?'  She  would  reply, '  0  father,  I  would 
rather  stay  here.  I  am  afraid,  if  I  go,  you  will 
want  something.'  " 


Surely  such  filial  love  in  the  children  of  the 
unfortunate  is  not  to  go  unrewarded.  It  is  a 
school  of  adversity,  in  which  it  might  have  been 
well  for  some  who  have  known  no  sorrow,  and 
yet  are  murmuring  at  their  allotment,  to  have 
been  trained,  that  they  might  at  least  have  felt 
for  the  suffering,  and  done  some  good  in  the 
world.  By  these  little  incidents,  daily  occurring 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  23 


in  a  drunkard's  home,  but  which  must  be  for 
ever  unknown  to  the  world,  it  was  that  this  child 
was  training,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  sequel,  to 
be  the  instrument  of  reclaiming  her  father,  and 
preparing  him  to  rescue  thousands  of  others  in 
the  like  captivity. 

Of  this  affectionate  child  and  her  lost  father, 
however,  we  might  never  have  heard,  had  it  not 
been  for  that  extraordinary  movement,  in  the 
providence  of  God,  which  had  already  com- 
menced in  the  city  of  Baltimore,  and  which  has 
since  extended  its  blessings  to  thousands  of  mis- 
erable families  throughout  the  country. 

On  the  fifth  of  April,  1840,  six  men,  devoted 
in  no  small  degree  to  their  cups,  and  usually 
known  as  intemperate  men,  were  spending  an 
evening,  in  their  usual  manner,  in  a  tavern  in 
Baltimore,  when,  by  a  singular  concurrence  of 
circumstances,  they  were  brought  to  the  resolu- 
tion that  they  would  drink  no  more  spiritous  or 
malt  liquors,  wine,  beer,  or  cider.  They  signed 
a  pledge  to  that  effect,  and  formed  themselves 
into  a  society,  which  they  called  the  Washington 
Temperance  Society,  whose  object  should  be 
the  complete  reformation  of  every  drunkard  in 
Baltimore. 


24  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

Such  an  event,  though  yet  in  its  earliest  stage, 
and  without  a  promise  of  its  final  extensive  re- 
sults, must  have  been  known  to  the  father  of  Han- 
nah, and  may  have  produced  agitations  in  his  bo- 
som which  could  only  be  quieted  by  signing  the 
pledge.  How  this  happy  event  was  effected  ; 
what  an  interesting  part  this  child  had  in  it,  and 
the  complete  restoration  of  the  father,  is  best  re- 
lated in  his  own  words.  It  is  a  tale  which  has 
made  many  an  eye  overflow  with  weeping,  and 
shown  the  power  of  grace  to  save  the  lost. 

"  June  15,  1840,"  said  Mr.  Hawkins,  in  one 
of  his  public  addresses,  "  I  drank  and  suffered 
awfully — I  can't  tell  how  much  I  suffered  in  mind 
— in  body  everything,  but  in  mind  more.  I 
drank  dreadfully  the  two  first  weeks  of  June — 
bought  by  the  gallon,  and  drank,  and  drank,  and 
was  about  taking  my  life — drunk  all  the  time. 
On  the  14th,  I  was  a  wonder  to  myself;  aston- 
ished I  had  my  mind  left,  and  yet  it  seemed,  in 
the  goodness  of  God,  uncommonly  clear.  I  lay 
in  bed  long  after  my  wife  and  daughter  were  up, 
and  my  conscience  drove  me  to  madness.  I  hated 
the  darkness  of  the  night ;  and  when  lis,'ht  came, 
I  hated  the  light.  1  hated  myself— my  existence. 
I  asked  myself,  '  Can  I  refrain ;  is  it  possible  ?* 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  25 

Not  a  being  to  take  me  by  the  hand,  and  lead  or 
help  me  along,  and  say  you  can.  I  was  friend- 
less ;  without  help  or  light ;  an  outcast.  My 
wife  came  up  stairs,  and  knew  I  was  suffering, 
and  asked  me  to  go  down  to  breakfast.  I  had  a 
pint  of  whisky,  and  thought  I  would  drink ;  and 
yet  I  knew  it  was  life  or  death  with  me  as  I  de- 
cided. Well,  I  told  my  wife  I  would  come  down 
presently.  Then  my  daughter  came  up  and  asked 
me  down.  I  always  loved  her — more  because 
she  was  the  drunkard's  friend — my  only  friend. 

"  She  said,  '  Father,  don't  send  me  after  whis- 
ky to-day.'  *  I  was  tormented  before,  but  this 
was  an  unexpected  torture.  I  told  her  to  leave 
the  chamber,  and  she  went  down  crying,  and  said 
to  her  mother,  Father  is  angry  with  me.  Wife 
came  up  again,  and  asked  me  to  take  some  cof- 
fee ;  I  told  her  I  did  not  want  anything  of  her, 
and  covered  myself  in  the  bed.  I  soon  heard 
some  one  enter  the  room,  and  I  peeped  out  and 
saw  it  was  my  daughter.  I  then  thought  of  my 
past  life ;  my  degradation  ;  misery  of  my  friends ; 
and  felt  bad  enough.  So  I  called  her  and  said, 
'  Hannah,  I  am  not  angry  with  you,  and  I  shall 
not  drink  any  more.'  She  cried,  and  so  did  I. 

*  See  Frontispiece 
3 


26  HANNAH   HAWKINS. 

I  got  up  and  went  to  the  cupboard,  and  looked 
at  the  enemy,  and  thought,  *  Is  it  possible  I  can 
be  restored  ?'  and  then  turned  my  back  upon  it. 
Several  times,  while  dressing.  I  looked  at  the  bot- 
tle, but  thought  I  should  be  lost  if  I  yielded.  Poor 
drunkard !  there  is  hope  for  you.  You  cannot 
be  worse  off  than  I  was ;  not  more  degraded,  or 
more  of  a  slave  to  appetite.  You  can  reform  if 
you  will.  Try  it — try  it.  I  felt  badly,  I  tell 
you. 

"  Well,  Monday  night  I  went  to  the  Society 
of  Drunkards,  and  there  I  found  all  my  old 
bottle  companions.  I  did  not  tell  anybody  I  was 
going,  not  even  my  wife.  I  had  got  out  of  diffi- 
culty, but  did  not  know  how  long  I  would  keep 
out.  The  six-pounders  of  the  Society  were  there. 
We  had  fished  together ;  got  drunk  together. 
You  could  not  break  us  up  when  drunk.  We 
stuck  like  brothers,  and  so  we  do  now  we  are 
sober.  One  said,  here  is  Hawkins,  the  '  regula- 
tor,' the  old  bruiser;  and  they  clapped  me  and 
laughed,  as  you  do  now.  But  there  was  no  laugh 
or  clap  in  me.  I  was  too  sober  and  solemn  for 
that.  The  pledge  was  read  for  my  accommoda- 
tion. They  did  not  say  so,  and  yet  I  knew. 
They  all  looked  over  my  shoulder  to  see  me 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  27 

write  my  name.  I  never  had  such  feelings  be- 
fore. It  was  a  great  battle.  I  once  fought  the 
battle  at  North  Point,  and  helped  to  run  away 
too,  but  now  there  was  no  running  away.  I 
found  the  Society  had  a  large  pitcher  of  water ; 
drank  toasts  and  told  experiences.  There  I  laid 
my  plan ;  I  did  not  intend  to  be  a  drone.  Alco- 
hol promised  me  everything,  but  I  found  him  a 
great  deceiver,  and  now  1  meant  to  do  him  all 
the  harm  I  could. 

"  At  eleven  I  went  home.  When  I  stayed  out 
late,  I  always  went  home  drunk.  Wife  had 
given  me  up  again,  and  thought  I  would  be  home 
drunk  again,  and  she  began  to  think  about  break- 
ing up  and  going  home  to  mother's.  My  yard  is 
covered  with  brick,  and  as  I  went  over  the  brick, 
wife  listened,  as  she  told  me,  to  determine  whether 
the  gate-door  opened  drunk  or  sober,  for  she 
could  tell,  and  it  opened  sober  and  shut  sober; 
and  when  I  entered,  my  wife  was  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  to  see  me  as  I  came  in.  She 
was  astonished,  but  I  smiled  and  she  smiled,  as  I 
caught  her  keen  black  eye.  I  told  her  quick ;  I 
could  not  keep  it  back.  ( I  have  put  my  name  to 
the  temperance  pledge,  never  to  drink  as  long  as 
I  live.'  It  was  a  happy  time.  I  cried  and  she 


28  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

cried ;  we  could  not  help  it,  and  crying  waked 
up  our  daughter,  and  she  cried  too.  I  tell  you 
this,  that  you  may  know  how  happy  the  reforma- 
tion of  a  drunkard  makes  his  family.  I  slept 
none  that  night,  my  thoughts  were  better  than 
sleep.  Next  morning  I  went  to  see  my  mother, 
old  as  she  was.  I  must  go  to  see  her  and  tell 
her  of  our  joy.  She  had  been  praying  twenty 
years  for  her  drunken  son.  Now,  she  said, '  It  is 
enough,  I  am  ready  to  die.'  It  made  all  my  con- 
nexions happy." 

From  this  time  a  new  era  dawned  upon  Han- 
nah and  her  suffering  mother.  Mr.  Hawkins 
soon  felt  himself  strong  in  his  pledge,  and  he 
entered  with  great  zeal  into  the  work  of  reclaim- 
ing others.  He  had,  in  early  life,  been  a  pro- 
fessor of  religion,  member  of  a  Methodist  church. 
A  recovery  from  his  horrid  courses  seemed  to 
awaken  in  him  deep  penitence  for  the  past,  and 
lively  gratitude  to  the  Father  of  mercies ;  and 
he  resolved  to  devote  himself  anew  to  his  service, 
and  give  him  all  the  praise  of  his  restoration. 

Possessed  of  a  clear,  strong,  and  mellow 
voice,  and  having  unusually  warm  affections ; 
being  entirely  willing  to  relate  the  whole  of  his 
bitter  experience,  and  doing  it,  not  in  a  spirit  of 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  29 

boasting,  but  contrition,  he  soon  became  a  pro- 
minent speaker ;  and  under  his  addresses,  large 
and  intelligent  audiences  were  often  in  tears.  In 
the  course  of  the  ensuing  winter,  he  attended  the 
anniversary  of  the  Maryland  State  Temperance 
Society,  at  Annapolis,  and  related  his  experience 
before  the  members  of  the  State  Legislature,  with 
much  effect ;  the  house,  it  is  said,  were  dissolved 
in  tears.  In  the  following  March,  he,  with  four 
other  reformed  men  from  Baltimore,  came  by 
invitation  to  New  York,  where,  under  the  rela- 
tion of  their  personal  experience,  before  immense 
crowds,  commenced  the  Washingtonian  reform 
of  that  city.  At  the  first  meeting,  while  Mr. 
Hawkins  was  speaking,  in  the  Green  Street 
Methodist  Church,  a  poor  drunkard  cried  out  in 
the  gallery,  "  Can  I  be  saved  too  ?"  "  Yes,"  said 
Mr.  Hawkins,  "  you  can.  Come  clown  and  sign 
the  pledge."  With  a  little  solicitation,  the  man 
came  down,  and,  supported  by  two  others,  came 
up  to  the  altar  and  signed  the  pledge.  The  vic- 
tory was  now  gained.  The  work  of  redemption 
among  poor  drunkards  commenced.  Another 
uttered  forth  the  feelings  of  his  heart,  and  was 
induced  to  come  down  and  sign  the  pledge. 
Five  or  six  others  of  the  miserable  class  soon  fol- 
3* 


30  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

lowed,  and  some  thirty  or  forty  besides,  well 
known  as  hard  drinkers  or  drunkards.  It  was 
the  first  fruits  of  a  great  harvest. 

While  Mr.  Hawkins,  with  his  companions, 
were  for  three  successive  weeks  addressing 
crowded  assemblies  in  New  York,  a  lady  who 
spoke  with  great  detestation  of  the  wine-cup, 
was  charged  with  monomania.  The  charge  in- 
duced her  to  pen  the  following  lines,  which  she 
requested  might  be  sent  to  Mr.  Hawkins,  for  the 
use  of  his  daughter,  in  case  she  should  at  any 
time  have  the  same  charge  to  encounter. 

Go,  feel  what  I  have  felt ; 

Go  bear  what  I  have  borne  ; 
Sink  'neath  a  blow  a  father  dealt, 

«And  the  cold,  proud  world's  scorn : 
Thus  struggle  on  from  year  to  year, 
Thy  sole  relief,  the  scalding  tear. 

Go,  weep  as  I  have  wept, 

O'er  a  lov'd  father's  fall ; 
See  every  cherished  promise  swept — 
Youth's  sweetness  turned  to  gall ; 

Hope's  faded  flowers  strewed  all  the  way 
That  led  me  up  to  woman's  day. 

Go,  kneel  as  I  have  knelt ; 

Implore,  beseech,  and  pray : 
Strive  the  besotted  heart  to  melt, 
The  downward  course  to  stay — 
Be  cast  with  bitter  curse  aside— 
Thy  prayers  burlesqued— thy  tears  defieu. 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  31 

Go,  hear  what  I  have  heard— 

The  sobs  of  sad  despair — 
As  memory's  feeling  fount  hath  stirred, 
And  its  revealings  there 
Have  told  him  what  he  might  have  been, 
Had  he  the  drunkard's  fate  foreseen. 

Go,  hear,  and  see,  and  feel,  and  know, 

All  that  my  soul  hath  felt  or  known, 
Then  look  within  the  wine-cup's  glow — 
See  if  its  brightness  can  atone  : 
Think,  if  its  flavor  you  would  try, 
If  all  proclaimed,  'Tis  drink  and  die. 

Near  the  close  of  their  visit  in  New  York, 
the  father  of  Hannah,  with  one  of  his  compa- 
nions (Mr.  William  Wright),  were  invited  to 
Boston,  Massachusetts,  to  repeat  there  the  story 
of  their  restoration.  They  complied  with  the 
invitation,  and  many  thousands  were  deeply 
affected  by  their  honest  and  heart-touching  ex- 
perience. The  depth  of  Mr.  Hawkins'  feelings 
at  his  sudden  transition  from  fifteen  years  of  low 
debasement  and  public  scorn,  to  so  high  a  place 
as  he  had  now  attained,  may  be  seen  in  the  open- 
ing of  his  speech  before  two  thousand  people  in 
Faneuil  Hall,  the  cradle  of  American  liberty. 

"  When  I  compare,"  said  he,  "  the  past  with 
the  present ;  my  days  of  intemperance  with  my 
present  peace  and  sobriety ;  my  past  degrada- 


32  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

tion  with  my  present  position  in  this  Hall — the 
cradle  of  liberty — I  am  overwhelmed.  It  seems 
to  me  holy  ground.  I  never  expected  to  see  this 
hall.  I  had  heard  of  it  in  boyhood.  'T\vas 
here  that  Otis  and  the  elder  Adams  argued  the 
principles  of  Independence,  and  we  now  meet 
here  to  declare  ourselves  free  and  independent ; 
to  make  a  second  Declaration — not  quite  so 
lengthy  as  the  old  one,  but  it  promises  life,  liber- 
ty, and  the  pursuit  of  happiness.  Our  forefathers 
pledged  their  lives  and  fortunes  and  sacred  honors ; 
we,  too,  will  pledge  our  honor,  our  life,  but  our 
fortunes  have  gone  for  rum !  Poor  though  we 
drunkards  are,  and  miserable,  even  in  the  gutter, 
we  will  pledge  our  lives  to  maintain  sobriety. 

"The  cause  of  Temperance !  what  is  it,  but  the 
cause  of  humanity  ?  I  need  not  talk  long  to 
show  its  connection  with  humanity.  I  have  suf- 
fered from  every  description  of  drunkenness — 
have  borne  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day  in 
rum-mills  (grog-shops),  and  know  all  about  it — 
and  I  rejoice  to  say,  in  this  Cradle  of  Liberty, 
that  whereas  I  was  once  a  drunkard,  I  am  now  a 
sober  man." 

After  giving  an  account  of  his  restoration  and 
the  restoration  of  many  in  Baltimore,  he  thus 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  33 

spoke  of  the  consequences  of  the  work  to  the 
families  of  the  reformed. 

"  Go  to  Baltimore  and  See  our  now  happy 
wives  and  families.  Only  look  at  our  procession 
on  the  5th  of  April,  when  we  celebrated  our  an- 
niversary. Two  thousand  men,  nearly  half  of 
them  reformed  within  a  year,  followed  by  two 
thousand  boys  of  all  ages,  to  give  assurance  to 
the  world  that  the  next  generation  shall  all  be 
sober.  But  where  were  our  wives  on  that  occa- 
sion ?  at  home,  shut  up  with  hungry  children  in 
rags  as  a  year  ago  1  No,  no  !  but  in  carriages 
riding  round  the  streets  to  see  their  sober  hus- 
bands ! 

"  My  family  were  in  a  hack,  and  I  carried  ap- 
ples, cakes,  &c.,  to  them,  and  wife  said,  '  how 

happy  all  look ;  why,  husband,  there  is all 

dressed  up — and  only  think,  I  saw  old in 

the  procession  as  happy  and  smart  as  any  of 
them  ;'  and  so  she  went  on  telling  me  who  she 
had  seen.  And  where  do  you  think  the  grog- 
sellers'  wives  were  ?  Were  they  out  ?  Not 
they ! ! !  Some  of  them  peeped  out  from  behind 
their  curtains  !  We  cut  down  the  rum  tree  that 
day  in  Baltimore,  under  ground  j  not  on  the  top 


34  HANNAH    HAW E1X5. 

of  the  ground  leaving  a  stump,  hut  under  ground, 
roots  and  all ! !" 

Of  the  dangers  and  results  of  the  drinking 
usages  of  society,  and  the  horrid  traffic  in  intoxicat- 
ing liquors,  he  spoke  with  an  honest  but  just  indig- 
nation, showing  talents  of  no  ordinary  character. 

"  This  drinking  has  killed  more  men,  women 
and  children,  than  war,  pestilence,  and  all  other 
evils  together.  You  cannot  bring  upon  man  so 
awful  a  curse  as  alcohol ;  it  cannot  be  done ;  no 
machinery  or  invention  of  death  can  work  like 
it.  Is  there  a  moderate  drinker  who  says  he  can 
use  '  a  little,'  or  '  much,'  and  '  quit  when  he 
pleases  V  I  tell  him  from  experience  he  can't 
do  it.  Well  he  can  if  he  will,  but  HE  WON'T 
WILL,  that  is  the  difficulty,  and  there  is  the  fatal 
mistake.  Does  he  want  to  know  whether  he 
can  ?  I  ask  him  to  go  without  his  accustomed 
morning  bitters  or  his  *  eleven  o'clock,'"  to-morrow, 
and  he  will  find  how  he  loves  it !  We  have 
come  up  out  of  the  gutter  to  tell  him  how  he 
loves  it,  and  how  he  may  escape.  It  is  the  mo- 
derate use — the  little;  the  pretty  drink,  the  gen- 
teel and  fashionable,  that  does  the  mischief — the 
moderate  drinker  is  training  to  take  the  place  of 
the  drunkard. 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  35 

"This  making  the  drunkard  by  a  thousand 
temptations  and  inducements,  and  then  shutting 
him  up  in  prison,  is  a  cruel  and  horrible  business. 
You  make  the  drunkard,  and  then,  if  he  comes 
into  your  house,  you  turn  him  out ;  let  him  come 
to  the  church  and  you  turn  him  out ;  friends  cast 
him  off;  the  grog-seller  turns  him  out  when  his 
money  is  gone,  or  midnight  comes.  When  he 
serves  his  time  out  in  the  prison,  he  is  turned  out 
with  the  threat  of  flogging  if  he  is  ever  caught 
again :  and  yet  you  keep  open  the  place  where 
he  is  entangled  and  destroyed.  You  are  bound 
to  turn  the  whole  tide  of  public  opinion  against 
the  traffic.  The  seller  will  pour  down  your  son's 
throat  a  tide  of  liquor,  and  you  do  so  to  his  son 
and  he  would  cut  your  throat.  Ask  him  if  he  is 
willing  you  should  make  his  daughter  a  drunk- 
ard, and  why  should  he  make  your  son  one  ?" 

When  the  good  people  of  Boston  saw  how 
Mr.  Hawkins  was  reformed  and  how  capable  he 
was  of  exerting  a  wide  influence  in  favor  of  tem- 
perance, they  told  him  to  go  back  to  Baltimore 
and  bring  his  wife  and  children  to  Massachusetts, 
and  they  would  there  provide  for  all  their  wants. 
This  was  indeed  a  great  change  for  Hannah  and 
her  mother,  brother  and  sister.  The  writer  one? 


36  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

•went  to  see  them  in  their  poor  habitation  in  the 
environs  of  Baltimore.  It  was  indeed  a  drunk- 
ard's home.  Now  they  were  to  quit  it  for  ever ; 
and,  instead  of  tears  for  their  meat,  they  were  to 
be  nourished  by  kind  friends  and  raised  to  a 
respectable  condition  in  society.  It  was  on  their 
way  to  their  new  friends,  that  he  met  them  in  the 
stage-coach,  as  narrated  in  the  commencement 
of  this  tale.  While  the  father  entered  on  those 
arduous  labors  in  the  cause  of  temperance,  which 
have  made  him  so  great  a  blessing,  travelling 
many  thousand  miles  and  often  speaking  to 
crowded  assemblies  four  and  six  times  a  week, 
Mrs.  Hawkins  found  an  abode  among  those  who 
sympathized  with  her  in  her  sufferings,  and  loved 
her  husband  for  his  labors ;  while  Hannah  and 
her  brothers  were  placed  in  schools,  where  they 
are  now  receiving  an  education  which  will  secure 
to  them,  it  is  hoped,  permanent  usefulness  and 
hrppiness. 


In  perusing  this  little  volume,  a  variety  of 
reflections  will  doubtless  crowd  upon  the  minds 
of  its  youthful  readers,  some  of  which,  if  suitably 
improved,  cannot  fail  to  be  highly  profitable. 


H.4NKAM    HAWKINS.  37 

Probably  some  will  first  of  all  exclaim,  "  Well, 
I  am  thankful  I  was  not  born  a  drunkard's 
daughter."  And  well  they  may.  They  know 
little  of  her  woes.  And  yet  it  is  no  virtue  of 
theirs  that  they  were  not.  It  was  no  fault  of  the 
child,  whose  history  we  have  related,  that  it  was 
her  allotment.  It  is  God  who  has  ordered  the 
birth  of  every  individual  as  it  has  pleased  him ; 
and  while  we  have  no  right  to  complain  of  our 
humble,  obscure  or  even  most  afflictive  condition, 
it  is  very  wicked  for  any  to  feel  proud  of  their 
birth,  because  it  has  given  them  every  blessing. 
How  much  misery  has  been  entailed  upon  at  least 
a  million  children  in  the  United  States  by  drunk- 
en parents,  can  never  be  told.  It  constitutes  an 
item  in  this  awful  sin,  which  the  human  mind 
cannot  estimate.  A  drunkard's  daughter !  Who 
loves  her  ?  Who  cnres  for  her  ?  Who  dandles 
her  on  the  knee?  Who  soothes  her  sorrows? 
WTho  gives  her  little  presents  to  make  her  happy  ? 
Children  of  wealthy  and  respectable  parents 
know  little  of  the  worth  of  their  blessings  or  of 
the  comforts  of  their  home,  while  the  storm  is 
beating  upon  the  house  of  the  poor  drunkard ; 
nor  how  happy  a  hundred  little  articles  of  cloth- 
ing which  they  might  cast  away,  and  the  very 
4 


38  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

food  they  leave  upon  their  tables,  would  make 
this  child  of  sorrow. 

It  is  an  aggravated  but  not  uncommon  case, 
where  a  rich  father  becomes  a  drunkard  and  all 
his  property  is  wasted  for  drink,  and  his  fine 
house  is  sold,  and  his  wife  and  little  ones  are 
driven  penniless  upon  the  world.  O  what  an 
allotment  then  has  the  drunkard's  daughter !  The 
writer  has  in  his  possession  a  beautiful  poetic 
lament  from  some  unknown  pen,  which  he  will 
here  insert  for  the  perusal  of  his  little  readers, 
hoping  it  may  excite  in  them  thankfulness  that 
their  fathers  have  been  preserved  from  this  awful 
vice. 

"     *  9m '  • 

THE  DRUNKARD'S  DAUGHTER. 

I  was  a  gay  and  happy  girl, 
And  once  I  lived  in  wealth  and  pride, 

My  father  was  a  noble  man, 

With  smiling  children  by  his  side. 

But  now  our  marble  house  is  changed 
Into  a  hut,  with  crumbling  walls  ; 

The  splendid  pictures  all  are  sold, 
That  once  adorned  our  Grecian  halls. 

My  mother  plays  no  more  the  harp, 

Or  sings  as  she  was  wont  to  do  ; 
But  oft  she  clasps  me  to  her  breast, 

With  face  of  almost  death-like  hue. 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  39 

She  used  to  weep  when  first  the  curse 
Made  wreck  of  all  our  peace  and  joy : 

But,  oh,  she  has  not  shed  one  tear 

Since  cold  death  claimed  her  only  boy. 

On  brother  once  she  fixed  her  hopes, 

When  father  blighted  all  her  joy: 
Oh,  little  did  she  think  that  he 

Would  all  her  ardent  hopes  destroy. 

Yes,  Edward  fills  a  drunkard's  grave ! 

He  died  from  home  without  a  friend 
To  calm  his  dark  and  troubled  soul, 

Or  kind  assistance  him  to  lend. 

Oh,  brother,  when  I  think  of  thee, 

As  thou,  dear  one,  I  fear  art  now, 
And  then  reflect  how  thou  wast  once, 

I  would  in  deep  submission  bow. 

Sweet  sister  Helen  pined  away, 

When  first  she  heard  of  brother's  death; 

The  roses  faded  from  her  cheek, 
And  now  she  sleeps  in  silent  death. 

I've  planted,  near  her  lonely  grave, 
The  snow-white  rose  and  violet  blue, 

And  as  I  see  them  fade  away, 
I  think  death  soon  will  call  me  too. 

I  love  to  lead  my  mother  there, 

And  point  her  to  the  deep  blue  sky, 

Then  try  to  calm  her  troubled  sou], 
And  pray  to  God  who  dwells  on  high. 


40  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

But  when  I  think  of  the  sad  cause, 
That  filled  our  house  with  pain  and  wo, 

Deep  grief  clings  to  my  very  soul, 
And  tears  of  burning  anguish  flow. 

Oh,  then  I  pray  that  God  above, 
Would  hear  a  lonely  mourner's  cry, 

And  give  my  wretched  father  grace, 
From  the  vile  tempter's  charms  to  fly. 

But  the  writer  trusts  that  it  is  not  merely  a 
feeling  of  gratitude  at  their  own  favored  allot- 
ment which  will  be  excited  by  this  little  story ; 
but  also  such  an  exercise  of  sympathy,  as  will 
for  ever  prevent  the  drunkard's  daughter  from 
being  despised  or  wounded  in  her  feelings. 

There  are  many  little  girls  who  would  on  no 
account  be  seen  walking  with  such  an  one  in 
the  street,  or  sitting  by  her  in  school,  or  inviting 
her  to  their  homes,  and  who  will  in  a  variety  of 
ways,  perhaps  not  intentionally,  but  from  want 
of  care,  wound  her  feelings.  How  wrong  this 
is,  need  not  be  told.  Her  allotment  is  not  a 
crime,  and  she  may  be  a  precious  gem  in  the 
sight  of  her  heavenly  Father.  What  a  treasure 
was  little  Hannah  to  her  poor  sick  mother,  when 
sitting  up  late  with  her  while  the  father  was  outon 
his  drunken  sprees  :  and  what  a  comfort  was  she 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  41 

to  him  when  he  came  home;  bringing  him  a 
pillow  and  a  blanket  as  he  lay  drunk  upon  the 
floor,  and  lying  down  by  him  till  morning1,  lest 
he  should  suffer  !  Such  a  child  fulfils  her  high 
destiny,  which  is  to  take  care  of  her  poor  father 
and  mother  ;  and  more,  infinitely  more  is  she  to 
be  envied,  than  all  the  trifling  daughters  of  gaie- 
ty and  fashion,  who  spend  their  midnight  hours 
in  dancing  and  revelry.  Jesus  Christ  says, 
"  Take  heed  that  ye  do  not  despise  these  little 
ones."  God  will  own  them  when  he  shall  make 
up  his  jewels. 

It  is  a  subject  of  gratitude  that  the  Sunday 
School  system  has  come  in  to  search  out  and  bless 
this  destitute  and  forsaken  class  of  little  girls,  by 
placing  them  within  the  means  of  instruction ;  a 
thing  which  could  never  be  expected  of  institu- 
tions whose  basis  is  pecuniary  profit.  Nor  is  this 
all  that  it  does.  It  furnishes  a  class  of  teachers 
who  look  after  their  pupils,  if  they  are  in  any 
way  detained  from  the  schools;  procure  them 
clothing,  if  they  are  destitute;  and  soothe  and 
calm  their  feelings  if  they  are  wounded — imi- 
tating their  great  Master  who  took  the  lambs  in 
his  arms  and  carried  them  in  his  bosom.  "  A 
bruised  reed  he  will  not  break."  The  writer 
4* 


42  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

recollects  an  incident  related  by  a  Sunday  school 
teacher,  remarkably  showing  both  his  own  kind- 
ness and  that  the  drunkard's  daughter  is  not 
always,  as  many  suppose,  a  rough  and  unfeeling 
child. 

Eliza  B.,  said  the  teacher,  was  a  promising 
scholar,  in  my  class  in  the  Sunday-school.  She 
had  been  absent  three  Sabbaths  from  school,  and 
unavoidable  circumstances  prevented  my  visiting 
her  parents,  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  her  absence 
and  that  of  her  two  sisters. 

I  was  out  quite  early  one  morning,  and  on 
passing  a  grocery,  saw  my  scholar  coming  from 
it,  with  something  in  her  hand ;  which,  as  she 
saw  me,  she  vainly  attempted  to  hide  under  her 
tattered  garment. 

It  was  too  plainly  seen,  a  bottle  of  whisky, 
and  it  might  also  have  been  seen  in  the  distress- 
ed and  confused  looks  of  poor  Eliza,  who  had 
often  heard  me  speak  of  the  misery  and  sin  at- 
tached to  the  use  of  ardent  spirits. 

"  What  have  you  there  V3  said  I. 

The  tear  started  in  her  eye  as  she  said,  in  a 
faint  tone — "  It's  for  father :"  and  again  tried  to 
find  a  covering  behind  her  scanty  and  torn  frock. 
Her  feet  were  bare,  though  the  morning  was  cold ; 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  43 

and  her  pinched  looks  and  uncombed  hair  show- 
ed neglect  and  poverty. 

"  Why  have  you  not  been  to  school  this  long 
time,  Eliza?"  said  I.  "I  have  missed  you,  and 
wondered  at  your  staying  away.  . 

Indeed  I  had,  for  she  often  showed  deep  feel- 
ing, and  something  within  frequently  whispered 
to  me,  "  The  Lord  has  thoughts  of  love  towards 
this  child." 

"  Mother  would  not  let  me,"  said  she. 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Because  I  had  no  shoes,  and  father  says  he 
cannot  get  any." 

"  Has  your  father  work,  and  is  he  well  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  but" — and  here  her  voice  falter- 
ed, and  the  tears  again  started  in  her  eyes.  She 
brushed  them  away,  and  said — "  Mother  says  she 
will  try  to  get  me  a  frock,  the  week  to  come,  for 
this  is  worn  out." 

It  was  a  case  that  touched  my  heart.  I  took 
her  by  the  hand  and  said,  "  Brush  away  your 
tears.  I  will  see  that  you  have  all  you  need,  and 
you  shall  come  again  to  the  school.  Pray  for 
your  poor  father,  that  he  may  be  reclaimed  from 
his  habits  and  become  once  more  a  blessing  to 
his  family. 


44  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

Another  reflection  which  must  arise  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  read  these  pages,  relates  to 
the  good  which  even  a  little  girl  may  be  the  in- 
strument of  being  to  her  poor  suffering  parents, 
and  even  to  thousands  of  others  in  the  world. 

Most  little  girls  feel  that  they  have  nothing  to 
do  but  to  obey  the  commands  of  their  parents 
and  teachers,  and  then  seek  to  the  utmost  their 
own  pleasures.  But  while  they  are  called  to  the 
discharge  of  no  great  offices,  they  have  each  an 
immortal  mind  committed  to  them;  and  by  a 
sweet  and  attentive  disposition,  by  having  a  cha- 
racter and  judgment  of  their  own,  and  expressing 
modestly  but  firmly  their  opinion,  they  may  often 
become  the  means  of  great  good  to  those  around 
them.  A  little  maid  in  the  house  of  Naaman  the 
Syrian,  was  instrumental  in  directing  her  master 
to  the  cure  of  his  leprosy.  "  For  she  said  unto 
her  mistress,  Would  God  my  lord  were  with  the 
prophet  that  is  in  Samaria,  for  he  would  recover 
him  of  his  leprosy."  And  many  a  little  girl,  by 
showing  an  early  spirit  of  obedience  and  filial 
affection,  has  gained  an  influence  over  a  father 
and  a  brother,  which  have  deterred  them,  in  mo- 
ments of  temptation,  from  ruin,  and  even  rescued 
them  from  the  fangs  of  the  destroyer.  It  was  a 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  45 

remark  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Beman,  of  Troy,  that  he 
had  known  more  vicious  young  men  reclaimed 
through  a  sister's  influence  than  through  any 
other  means  whatever. 

Had  little  Hannah  Hawkins  been  a  wicked 
and  drunken  child — had  she  despised  her  poor 
father  and  mother,  and  been  cruel  to  him,  he 
never  would  have  suffered  her  to  say,  "  Father, 
don't  send  me  for  any  whisky  to-day."  She 
would  have  received  a  blow  which  would  have 
felled  her  to  the  floor,  and  her  father  himself 
would  have  drank  the  more  fiercely  for  it.  But 
when  his  little  Hannah,  who  had  sat  up  late  for 
him  at  night,  and  who  had  covered  him  with  a 
blanket,  put  a  pillow  under  his  head  and  laid 
down  by  him,  as  he  expressed  it,  like  "  a  faithful 
dog,"  said,  in  tones  of  daughter-tenderness,  "  Fa- 
ther, don't  send  me  for  any  whisky  to-day,"  it 
was  more  than  he  could  bear.  He,  at  first,  thrust 
her  out.  But  when  she  came  back,  and  he  saw 
it  was  his  daughter,  he  then  thought  of  his  past 
life,  his  degradation,  the  misery  of  his  friends, 
and  he  called  her  to  him  and  said,  "  Hannah,  I 
am  not  angry  with  you,  and  I  shall  not  drink  any 
more."  Both  cried.  He  got  up  and  went  to  the 
cupboard,  and  looked  at  the  enemy,  and  thought, 


46  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

"  Is  it  possible  I  can  be  restored  ?"  and  then  turn- 
ed his  back  upon  it.  Several  times,  while  dress- 
ing, he  looked  at  the  bottle,  but  thought  he  should 
be  lost  if  he  yielded.  The  firmness  and  love  of  a 
little  daughter  proved  a  father's  rescue.  And 
what  a  rescue !  From  a  drunkard's  grave. 

Some  of  the  little  readers  of  these  pages  may 
recollect  the  history  of  Julia  Harwood.  It  was 
related  by  a  gentleman  who  had  been  spending 
a  few  days  in  one  of  the  lovely  villages  which 
beautify  the  valley  of  the  Connecticut,  and  so 
nearly  resembles  the  case  before  us,  that  it  may 
here  find  an  appropriate  location. 

"  It  was,"  says  he,  "  a  chilly  afternoon  in  Oc- 
tober when  I  entered  the  grave-yard.  The  winds 
moaning  through  the  leafless  branches,  seemed 
as  if  chanting  a  funeral  dirge.  I  stood  beside  the 
grave  of  a  little  girl,  named  Julia  Harwood.  On 
her  tombstone  was  this  inscription — *  Yea,  saith 
the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from  their  labors, 
and  their  works  do  follow  them.'  The  name 
awoke  many  painful  recollections,  for  Henry 
Harwood  had  been  the  companion  of  my  boy- 
hood. We  had  mingled  in  our  sports  and  studies, 
and  together  graduated.  Since  that  time  I  had 
not  seen  him,  and  his  letters  had  become  less  fre- 


HAXNAH    HAWKINS.  47 

quent,  until  I  was  ignorant  of  his  situation  alto- 
gether. I  was  wondering  whether  this  little  girl 
could  be  his  daughter,  when  a  voice  said, '  George, 
my  old  friend,  is  that  you  ?'  I  turned  and  recog- 
nized Henry  Harwood,  the  companion  of  my 
youth.  His  features  bore  the  impress  of  grief. 
*  This  little  girl,'  said  he, '  was  my  daughter. 
When  I  abandoned  myself  to  the  intoxicating  cup 
it  was  she  who  would  move  among  us  like  an 
angel  of  mercy,  shedding  a  ray  of  happiness 
wherever  she  was.  \Vhen  her  mother  was  sad, 
she  would  cheer  her  lonely  hours  with  scenes  of 
brighter  days  to  come ;  and  on  my  return,  in 
tones  of  tenderness  beseech  me  to  let  the  poison 
cup  alone.  If  my  heart  had  not  been  stone,  it 
would  have  melted,  but  I  cruelly  repulsed  her 
kindness,  and  bade  her  be  silent.  She  obeyed 
me ;  but  after  that,  her  cheek  was  paler  and  her 
step  more  feeble.  And  shall  I  say  it  ?  Yes.  I 
plunged  more  deeply  into  the  vortex  of  sin  and 
folly.  The  day  before  her  death,  Julia  called  me 
to  her  bedside  ;  and  pressing  my  hand  tenderly 
to  hers,  addressed  me  thus  :  "  Soon,  dear  father, 
I  shall  die,  and  your  daughter  will  depart  from 
you.  Must  it  be  a  final  separation  ?  Shall  we 
never  meet  again  but  at  the  judgment-day  ?  Oh, 


48  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

beloved  father,  will  you  not  grant  me  the  last 
request  I  shall  ever  make  ?  Night  and  day  I 
have  prayed  that  you  might  have  grace  to  resist 
the  temptation ;  and  thus  light  up  with  joy  hearts 
now  pining  with  sorrow.  Will  you  not,  dear 
father '?  Oh,  say  yes.  Promise  now,  at  the  bed- 
side of  your  dying  Julia,  that  you  will  never  taste 
the  poison  again — that  which  destroys  your  in- 
tellect, and  will  send  you  to  the  drunkard's  dread- 
ful home."  I  left  her,  even  while,  in  gentle  ac- 
cents, she  entreated  me  ,to  smile  on  her  forgive- 
ness, for  pressing  so  importunately  that  which 
was  so  near  to  her  heart.  I  left  her  to  drown 
my  feelings  of  remorse  in  intoxication.  When  1 
saw  Julia  again  she  was  a  corpse,  and  her  pale, 
sad  face  seemed  reproaching  me  for  my  cruelty. 
Since  that  moment  I  have  not "  touched,  tasted,  or 
handled  the  accursed  thing.'  "  My  friend  ceased, 
overcome  with  emotion  ;  and  I  felt  how  true  it 
is  that  our  '  works  do  follow'  us." 

Thousands  of  little  girls  will  say,  when  asked 
to  sign  the  temperance  pledge,  "  I  have  no  in- 
fluence." 

"  What  if  the  little  rain  should  say, 

So  small  a  drop  as  I, 
Can  ne'er  refresh,  those  thirsty  fields, 
I'll  tarry  in  the  sky ! 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  49 

What  if  a  shining  beam  at  noon. 

Should  in  its  fountain  stay, 
Because  its  feeble  light  alone, 

Cannot  create  a  day  1 

Doth  not  each  rain  drop  help  to  form 

The  cold  refreshing  shower:     , 
And  every  ray  of  light  to  warm 

And  beautify  the  flower  ?" 

No  influence!  Ah!  then  they  will  soon  be 
led  into  the  paths  of  ruin.  A  little  girl  who  has 
no  influence,  and  means  to  have  none,  and  to  do 
no  good,  will  have  no  character,  and  will  soon 
be  led  astray  by  inhuman  destroyers.  This  is  the 
first  thing  that  she  is  to  learn,  that  she  has  influ- 
ence, and  that  she  is  exerting  it  over  her  little 
companions  every  day  and  every  hour ;  and  if  it 
is  not  for  good,  it  is  for  evil ;  and  if  it  can  be  an 
influence  to  save  a  beloved  brother  or  a  kind  fa- 
ther from  ruin,  what  will  be  its  value  ? 

But  to  pursue  our  reflections.  No  one,  the 
writer  is  sure,  not  even  a  child,  can  read  these 
pages,  or  any  of  the  numerous  accounts  of  ruined 
fathers,  which,  in  the  last  two  years,  have  been 
so  graphically  presented  to  the  public,  without 
acquiring  the  greatest  abhorrence  of  a  drunk- 
aid's  course,  and  of  all  those  usages  of  society 
5 


50  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

which  have  brought  degradation  and  ruin  upon 
the  happiest  families. 

The  poor  unfortunate  man  himself  has  been 
abhorred  perhaps  sufficiently ;  and  his  family  too, 
far  beyond  their  deserts.  But  while  these  have 
been  cast  off  as  loathsome,  a  nuisance  and  a  bur- 
den to  community,  all  the  usages  of  society  which 
have  proved  their  ruin,  have  been  most  assidu- 
ously cherished.  Pride  and  fashion  have  stamped 
them  as  honorable,  and  the  men  who  have  made 
money  by  the  sale  of  the  intoxicating  cup,  and 
brought  clown  some  of  the  noblest  spirits  to  the 
deepest  degradation  and  ruin,  have  filled  high 
places  in  society,  sat  at  communion  tables,  and 
gone  with  their  children  to  peaceful  graves. 
Amazing  infatuation !  Incomprehensible  blind- 
ness !  In  all  other  cases  we  compassionate  the 
sufferer,  and  abhor  and  shrink  from  the  cause  of 
his  ruin.  If  a  man,  by  a  course  of  fraud  and  mis- 
representation, involves  another  in  deep  pecuni- 
ary distress  and  ruin,  brings  him  to  a  jail,  and 
casts  his  family,  once  rolling  in  wealth,  penniless 
upon  the  world,  the  whole  of  society,  though 
they  cannot  relieve  the  latter,  or  his  family,  yet 
view  the  former,  and  all  his  arts,  with  the  utmost 
detestation.  If  any  article  of  food,  how  delicious 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  51 

soever,  is  proving  the  death  of  a  child,  it  is  hence- 
forth viewed  with  fear  and  terror ;  and  every  par- 
ticle of  it  is  for  ever  removed  from  under  the  roof. 
And  if  any  individual  is  pursuing  a  business 
which  brings  yellow  fever,  or  plague,  upon  the 
community,  sweeping  them  into  the  grave,  the 
civil  authorities  at  once  lay  their  hand  upon  it, 
and  say,  you  shall  pursue  it  no  farther.  But  the 
people  of  the  United  States,  witnessing  the  ruin 
of  families  almost  without  number,  from  immo- 
derate drinking,  seeing  30,000  go  annually  to 
the  drunkard's  grave,  and  knowing  that  no  drunk- 
ard hath  any  inheritance  in  the  kingdom  of  God, 
still,  to  an  amazing  extent,  cling  to  the  wine  cup. 
Legislatures  license  the  horrid  dram-shop ;  and 
the  manufacturer  and  the  vender  move  among 
the  respectable  classes  of  society.  Parents  who 
love  their  children,  set,  day  by  day,  upon  their 
table  that  which  intoxicates ;  and  even  some 
ministers  of  the  gospel,  while  they  pray  that  all 
sin  and  sorrow  may  be  done  away,  still  help,  by 
example,  to  keep  open  those  fountains  of  liquid 
fire  which  burn  up  for  ever  body  and  soul. 

It  is  only  a  recollection  of  the  delusion  which 
was  once  on  all  minds,  and  involved  the  whole 
community  in  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  that 


52  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

secures  the  mantle  of  charity  for  those  yet  uphold- 
ing the  hydra  in  its  power.  It  is  not  demanded 
of  the  children  coming  upon  the  stage  of  action, 
that  they  should  abhor  the  drunkard  and  his  suffer- 
ing family ;  rather  let  them  pity  such,  as  are  ruin- 
ed by  the  vices  of  a  father,  induced  by  the  usages 
of  society.  For  drunkenness  there  is  no  excuse 
and  no  palliation.  ]t  is  a  sin  of  deepest  dye  in 
the  sight  of  God,  and  the  parent  of  other  sins. 
And  its  guilt  is  charged,  not  only  upon  each  suc- 
cessive act,  but  also  back  upon  that  moderate 
drinking  and  those  early  habits  which  induced  it. 
These  should  be  the  objects  of  their  detestation 
and  abhorrence.  The  sparkling  champagne,  a 
token  of  genteel  society ;  the  pleasant  cordial,  a 
holiday  offering;  the  foaming  beer  and  the 
strengthening  ale,  offered  as  spring  breaks  forth 
in  its  beauty,  or  summer  depresses  by  its  heat ; 
the  sweet  fermented  cider  from  the  autumnal  har- 
vests— yea,  the  wine  sauce  and  wine  custard,  the 
brandied  peaches  and  preserves,  and  brandied 
pies — all  deceitful — should  be  shunned  and  fear- 
ed as  the  viper's  tooth  ;  be  detested  as  the  arch- 
demon  among  the  flowers  of  paradise,  who,  by 
his  smooth  and  flattering  speech,  would  betray 
the  soul  to  endless  night. 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  53 

It  is  hoped  that  this  will  not  be  viewed  as  the 
language  of  a  cold  ascetic,  who  would  deprive 
all  others  of  the  enjoyment  in  which  be  has  no 
participation.  He  is  aware  that  there  have  been 
many  who  have  gone  through  life  in  the  daily 
indulgence  of  the  intoxicating  glass,  perhaps  the 
beloved  parents  of  those  children,  into  whose 
hands  this  book  may  fall,  and  yet  never,  so  far  as 
the  eye  of  man  reaches,  been  injured  by  it.  Nor 
is  he  forgetful  that,  in  the  land  in  which  the  bless- 
ed Saviour  had  his  birth,  the  fruit  of  the  vine  was 
accounted  among  its  chief  blessings,  and  was 
often  extolled  by  seers  and  prophets,  although 
the  Holy  One,  merciful  to  save,  declared  '  wine 
a  mocker,'  and  that  "  whoso  is  deceived  thereby 
is  not  wise."  And  how  are  we  to  avoid  decep- 
tion, but  to  shun  the  paths  of  the  deceiver  ?  How 
save  ourselves  from  being  mocked,  but  to  hold 
in  abhorrence  the  ways  of  the  mocker  ?  Who 
was  ever  made  a  drunkard,  but  by  listening  to 
the  tempter  'I  Who  was  ever  mocked,  but  in  mo- 
derate drinking  1 

The  writer  once  received  an  account  from  a 

lady  in  Baltimore,  of  a  beautiful  child  in  that 

city,  who  was  early  taught  to  drink  the  health  of 

her  papa  and  mama  at  her  father's  table.     She 

5* 


64 


IANNAH    HAWKINS. 


became  a  great  proficient  in  music  and  dancing, 
and  loved  the  exhilarating  cup ;  for  she  thought 
it  gave  life  to  her  step,  a  thrill  to  her  voice, 
sharpness  to  her  wit,  and  caused  soft  words  to 
flow  melodiously.  When  she  walked  abroad 
with  her  companions,  she  stopped  at  the  confec- 
tioner's, for  she  was  rich,  and  treated  them  with 


the  nicest  cordials.    \Yh< 


was  married,  new 


cares  devolved  upon  her;  and  new  desires  tc 
please,  made  her  seek  the  stimulus  the  more.  To 
escape  the  notice  of  her  husband,  she  would  steal 
wine  from  his  closet,  and  send  her  servants,  in 
the  darkness  of  the  night,  for  gin,  ht-r  favorite 
drink.  At  length,  her  vacant  eye,  and  bloated 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  55 

face,  and  silly  speech,  and  feeble  gait,  were  na- 
ture's signals  of  distress.  The  heart  of  her  hus- 
band was  broken.  Her  children  were  covered 
with  shame.  She  died,  years  after,  in  a  hospi- 
tal, of  the  drunkard's  mania.  We  ask  every  lit- 
tle girl  who  reads  this  book,  to  pause  a  moment 
and  contemplate  her  end ;  and  then  say  whether, 
despite  of  friends  or  a  flattering  world,  she  will 
not  abhor  her  sparkling  champagne,  and  bran- 
died  delicacies. 

The  writer  feels  that  he  may  be  extending  his 
remarks  too  far ;  but  he  is  sure  it  is  impossible 
not  to  reflect  on  the  blessedness  of  the  temper- 
ance reformation,  and  the  worth  of  all  the  early 
labors  in  this  work  of  reform. 

A  few  years  ago,  he  went  to  a  moderate  drink- 
er, and  asked  him  to  abstain  entirely  from  all  in- 
toxicating drinks,  and  sign  the  pledge  of  total 
abstinence.  No,  said  he,  it  is  not  necessary  for 
me,  but  only  for  the  intemperate  man.  Go  to 
him.  Accordingly,  he  went  to  one,  and  asked 
him  to  do  it.  Before  giving  a  reply,  he  inquired 
if  Mr.  B.  had  agreed  to.  No,  was  the  answer. 
He  says  he  only  drinks  moderately.  Well,  that, 
said  the  drunkard,  is  all  I  do — besides,  I  need  it, 
for  I  am  feeble ;  but  he  does  not,  for  he  is  strong 


66  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

and  healthy.  It  was  therefore  necessary,  before 
the  poor  unfortunate  drunkard  could  be  reformed, 
that  moderate  drinkers,  for  his  sake,  if  not  their 
own,  should  give  up  the  use  of  all  intoxicating 
liquors,  and  sign  the  pledge.  And  it  took  years 
of  toil,  and  labor,  and  great  expense,  to  convince 
them  that,  for  the  good  of  others,  it  was  a  duty 
to  do  it.  And  when  the  work  was  done,  when  a 
million  persons  had  signed  the  pledge,  and  a 
hundred  thousand  men  were  kept  sober,  who, 
without  the  work,  would  have  been  drunkards, 
and  an  army  of  temperance  men  was  raised  up 
throughout  the  land,  then  the  way  was  prepared 
for  that  reformation  which  commenced  at  Balti- 
more, and  spread  through  every  State  of  this  fa- 
vored nation. 

The  worth  of  this  reform  to  each  individual 
and  family  interested  in  it ;  the  relief  from  posi- 
tive and  indescribable  woes ;  the  comfort,  sup- 
port, self-respect,  clothing,  fuel,  and  joys  of  home, 
restored ;  the  education,  the  Bible,  the  Sabbath, 
the  hope  of  salvation  introduced,  are  in  value 
beyond  computation. 

In  the  exuberant  joy  manifested  by  numbers  as 
they  burst  the  chains  and  stood  out  before  their 
fellow-beings  as  reformed  drunkards,' there  was 


^v        "4HB 
HANNAH    HAWKINS.  57 

something  revolting  to  those  who  were  accus- 
tomed to  look  upon  them  as  the  most  debased  of 
society,  and  who,  if  they  were  even  reformed, 
should  spend  the  rest  of  their  days  away  from 
the  haunts  of  men,  clothed  in  dust  and  ashes. 
But  they  were  like  captives  delivered  from  the 
dungeon  ;  like  birds  escaped  from  the  snare  of  the 
fowler.  One  of  our  sweetest  poets  has,  in  the 
following  sonnet,  most  graphically  given  their 
true  and  certainly  justifiable  feelings.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  such  as  is  described  will  be  their 
spirit  of  gratitude. 

SONG  OF  JOHN  HAWKINS  AND  HIS  COMRADES. 

BY  WM.  B.  TAPPAN. 

Hurrah!  hurrah  !  we've  burst  the  chain: 

O  God  !  how  long  it  bound  us ! 
We  run  !  we  leap  !  O  God,  again 

Thy  light,  thy  air  surround  us. 
From  midnight's  dungeon-depths  brought  out, 

We  hail  hope's  rising  star ; 
Ho,  comrades,  give  a  stirring  shout, 

Hurrah !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 
Debased  by  drink,  we'd  lost  the  sign 

Of  manhood,  God  imprest, 
The  open  face,  the  look  divine — 

To  show  what  He  had  blest. 
Behold  !  erect !  with  honest  brow, 

Restored  to  Nature's  law — 
We're  men  !  we're  men  !  heaven  knows  us  now, 

Hurrah !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 


58  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

Of  ten  men  cleansed  did  one  return, 

To  bless  the  healing  hour? 
All  of  our  rescued  thousands  bum, 

To  praise  redeeming  power. 

Come !  bless  God  now !  and  what  for  us 

He's  done — so  reads  the  law — 
We'll  do  for  others  !  and  the  curse 

Root  out — hurrah !  hurrah  ! 

If  in  the  progress  of  the  work  of  reform  there 
have  been  some  sad  relapses,  blasting  the  hopes 
of  friends,  and  causing  triumph  to  the  rum-seller 
and  moderate  drinker,  there  have  been  perma- 
nent securities  of  bliss,  at  which  there  is  joy  in 
he'aven.  Husbands  and  wives,  who  had  for  years 
been  divorced  because  of  intemperance,  and 
whose  children  had  been  scattered  among  rela- 
tives and  friends,  have  been  reunited,  and  once 
more  gathered  their  little  ones  together,  under  a 
happy  roof.  Parents,  abandoning  their  cup  of 
wo,  finding  plenty  now  taking  up  with  them  its 
abode,  have  been  to  poor-houses  to  receive  again 
their  offspring,  who  have  been  cast  upon  public 
charity  as  more  pitiable  than  orphans.  Many  a 
sister  has  received  back  to  her  embrace  a  lost 
brother ;  and  many  a  son  has  come  home  to 
wipe  the  falling  tear  from  a  parent's  eye,  whose 


hANNAH    HAWKINS. 


59 


grey  hairs  he  was  rapidly  bringing  with  sorrow 
to  the  grave. 

The  writer  is  acquainted  with  a  family  where 
was  not  entire  destitution,  but  strife  and  babbling, 
and  Wo  dwelt,  and  the  wife  was  often  driven 
out  by  violence.  There  may  now  be  seen,  as  the 


curtains  of  the  evening  are  drawn  around  them, 
father,  mother,  and  children,  happily  seated  to- 
gether around  a  common  table,  reading  useful 
books,  enjoying  each  other's  society,  and  grate- 
ful, too,  it  is  believed,  for  the  mysterious  change 
which  has  come  over  them  by  means  of  the 


60  HANNAH  HAWKINS. 

pledge.  Sweet  scene  ! — one  that  the  angels 
might  rest  upon  with  unmingled  delight. 

It  is  not  long  since  that  he  entered  a  church, 
on  a  Sabbath  afternoon,  which  was  devoted  to 
the  sacrament.  After  the  services  had  been 
opened,  in  a  solemn  and  appropriate  manner, 
several  came  forward  to  take  upon  them  the  sa- 
cramental vow.  Among  them  was  a  man  with 
a  rough  but  saddened  look;  his  wife,  with  a 
countenance  of  tearful  gratitude,  and  an  interest- 
ing daughter  of  about  eighteen,  who  were  all 
baptized  together.  This  husband  and  father,  but 
a  few  months  before,  was  an  unfeeling,  cruel 
drunkard,  from  whose  hand  this  wife  and  daugh- 
ter had  drank  many  a  cup  of  sorrow.  Now  he 
gave  good  evidence  of  an  entire  reform,  and  of  a 
saving  change  of  heart.  And  his  extraordinary 
reformation,  with  his  self-devotedness  to  his  Mak- 
er, had  so  affected  the  heart  of  his  daughter,  as 
to  be  the  means  also  of  her  salvation.  What  a 
family,  the  writer  thought,  to  be  transplanted  to 
heaven!  What  grace  !  rich  grace! 

And  yet  there  are  those  -who  make  light  of  the 
temperance  reform,  and  refuse  to  sacrifice  their 
daily  or  even  occasional  glass  of  wine  that  it  may 
go  on  and  prosper.  There  are  those  who,  for 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  61 

money,  will  still  hand  out  to  the  poor  unfor- 
tunate drunkard  the  cup  of  trembling ;  who 
will  manufacture  the  poison  and  sell  it  to  young 
men  and  boys,  and  make  another  generation  of 
drunkards.  There  are  Christian  parents  who 
will  still  give  the  wine-cup  to  their  children,  and 
through  these  their  own  tender  offspring,  and  so 
far  as  their  example  and  influence  go,  through  other 
families,  will  for  ever  stop  the  work  of  reform. 
Heaven  grant  that  their  eyes  may  be  opened  to 
the  sinfulness  and  bitterness  of  their  course,  be- 
fore they  or  theirs  shall  fall  a  prey  to  the  de- 
stroyer! For  the  evil  they  are  causing  we 
devoutly  say,  "  Father,  forgive  them,  they  know 
not  what  they  do." 

The  writer  cannot  draw  this  little  work  to  a 
close,  without  a  single  reflection  upon  the 
amount  of  misery  which  would  be  brought  upon 
this  and  other  families  in  the  like  circumstances, 
by  the  father's  being  enticed  again  into  the  paths 
of  drunkenness.  He  cannot  think  of  anything 
that  would  equally  satisfy  the  malice  of  the  fiends 
of  darkness,  or  more  fully  exhibit  the  power  of 
sin  to  blast  human  hope  and  bind  the  guilty  and 
the  innocent  together  in  the  chains  of  despair. 
And  yet  a  slight  temptation,  a  single  glass  of  in- 
6 


62  HANXAH    H.VWKIM?. 

toxicating  liquor  offered  in  hospitality,  or  press- 
ed upon  the  unfortunate  man  by  the  unfeeling 
vender,  to  snatch  from  him  a  few  pence  which 
he  may  have  earned  for  his  wife  and  children, 
would  do  it.  Who  will  say  that  an  article  so 
dangerous  to  a  hundred  thousand  reformed  men, 
should  be  tolerated  in  society — and  that  men 
should  be  licensed  to  sell  it  1  Who  would  believe 
that  any  could  be  found  willing  to  sell  it,  and 
that  there  are  Christian  families  who  will  yet 
have  it  on  th^ir  tables  and  circulate  it  in  their 
social  parties,  let  who  will  be  present  1  The 
Apostle  Paul  said,  ';  It  is  good  neither  to  eat 
flesh,  nor  to  drink  wine,  nor  anything  whereby 
thy  brother  stumbleth  or  is  offended  or  is  made 
weak.  Surely,  if  there  is  no  other  argument  for 
the  entire  disuse  in  the  Christian  community, 
there  is  one  drawn  from  this  consideration  of  ir- 
resistible force,  that  such  use  may  never  more 
plunge  a  happy  family  into  the  degradation  and 
wo  of  a  drunkard's  home. 

Let  some,  if  they  will,  throw  off  all  sense  of 
moral  obligation,  and  say  in  the  selfishness  and 
pride  of  their  hearts,  "  Am  I  my  brother's  keep- 
er V  The  day  of  judgment  will  declare  it.  "  It 
must  needs  be  that  offences  come,  but  wo  to  that 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  63 

man  by  whom  the  offence  cometh."  "  It  were 
better  for  him  that  a  mill-stone  were  hanged 
about  his  neck  and  he  were  cast  into  the  depth 
of  the  sea." 

Seventy  of  remark,  however,  is  scarcely  de- 
manded excepting  toward  the  unfeeling  rum- 
seller,  who,  as  facts  of  an  appalling  character 
would  illustrate,  has  a  peculiar  disrelish  of  a 
reformed  drunkard,  and  has  been  known  even  to 
put  the  poison  into  a  cup  thought  innocent ;  but 
few,  with  this  exception,  even  of  the  most  invete- 
rate wine  drinkers,  will  go  so  far  as  to  set  before 
the  reformed  man  the  vile  temptation. 

"  James,"  said  a  father  of  this  description,  and 
who  had  said  if  a  man  becomes  a  drunkard  at 
my  table  it  is  none  of  my  business,  I  shall  never 
give  up  my  wine  for  others,  "  James,  invite  your 
friend  home  to  dinner.  I  understand  he  has 
reformed  and  signed  the  pledge.  It  is  a  good 
thing,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  encourage  him.'* 
While  dinner  was  preparing  and  the  young  men 
were  enjoying  themselves  with  their  flutes,  a 
thought  of  the  wine  bottle  flashed  across  his 
mind  :  "  Can  I  invite  this  young  man,  just  snatch- 
ed as  a  brand  from  the  burning  to  my  table,  give 
him  wine,  and  send  him  home  to-night  drunk,  to 


64  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

the  inexpressible  grief  of  his  father  and  mother, 
and  mortification  of  his  sisters  1  No,  I  cannot 
do  it.  Servant,"  said  he,  ringing  the  bell, 
"  remove  the  decanters."  He  could  not  have 
them  upon  his  table.  And  who  could,  under  the 
like  circumstances  1  Who  would  consent,  even 
for  worlds,  to  have  his  own  son  thus  tempted  and 
allured  back  to  ruin  ?  Ah  !  fashion,  cruel  tyrant ! 
heaven  be  praised,  there  is  a  power  within  to 
which  even  thou,  inexorable  as  thou  art,  must 
sometimes  yield. 

Reflections  may  perhaps  have  been  too  much 
prolonged,  but  it  is  impossible  to  meet  with  such 
an  incident  in  a  family  of  once  deep  obscurity 
and  debasement,  yet,  in  the  mysterious  provi- 
dence of  God,  acting  upon  hundreds  and  even 
thousands  of  families  in  different  and  distant  parts 
of  the  land,  without  deriving  from  it  some  lessons 
of  wisdom,  and  endeavoring  to  make  some  im- 
provement for  our  own  good  and  the  good  of 
others. 

The  most  desirable  result,  and  that  for  which 
the  writer  would  most  strenuously  labor  with 
every  dear  child,  who  may  chance  to  read  this 
book,  is,  to  induce  her  in  the  morning  of  life  to 
come  to  the  full  and  decided  resolution,  never  in 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  C5 

any  form  as  a  beverage,  to  taste,  touch  or  handle 
the  intoxicating  cup,  and,  both  as  a  personal 
security  and  that  she  may  extend  security  to 
others,  to  put  her  name  to  the  temperance  pledge. 

If  so  much  misery  as  this  the  father  of  Hannah 
brought  upon  himself  and  family  by  the  once 
moderate  use  of  wine,  beer,  cider  or  brandy,  why 
should  any  individual  ever  be  willing  to  come  in 
the  least  contact  with  these  bewitching  but  de- 
structive poisons?  If  one  saw  a  beautiful  ship 
filled  with  passengers  swallowed  up  by  the  awful 
Maelstrom,  how  could  he  be  willing  for  any 
pleasurable  indulgence  to  sail  around  in  the 
most  distant  circle  1 

Let  every  little  girl,  then,  as  she  reads  this 
book,  resolve  in  good  faith  to  place  her  name  to 
the  temperance  pledge.  A  voice  may  whisper, 
What  good  will  it  do  ?  She  cannot  telL  Cer- 
tain it  is,  it  can  do  no  harm.  If  it  does  not  save 
herself,  it  may  prevent  her  from  leading  others  in 
the  road  to  ruin.  It  may  justify  her  in  saying  at 
a  future  day  to  a  father,  brother,  husband  or 
friend,  I  cannot  bring  you  the  intoxicating  cup, 
and  with  angel  influence  may  bring  them  to  re- 
flection, and  save  them  from  destruction.  And  if 
this  book  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  any  young 


66  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

lady  who  may  feel  that  fashion  or  the  laws  of 
society  or  her  own  health  and  happiness  forbid 
her  taking  a  stand  on  the  side  of  total  abstinence, 
he  would  take  the  liberty,  for  the  benefit  of  such, 
to  introduce  an  extract  or  two  from  the  accom- 
plished and  most  excellent  writer,  Mrs.  Ellis,  in 
her  work,  which  should  be  found  in  every  well 
trained  family,  "A  Voice  from  the  Vintage." 

"  I  may,  perhaps,  be  allowed  to  add  a  few 
words  on  the  subject  of  my  own  experience, 
which  may  possibly  derive  additional  weight 
from  the  circumstance  of  my  having  been,  for 
many  years  of  my  life,  an  obstinate  disbeliever 
in  the  efficacy  of  temperance  principles  to  effect 
any  lasting  or  extensive  good ;  while  of  all  rt- 
spectable  societies,  that  for  the  promotion  of  total 
abstinence — that  which  I  now  esteem  it  an  honor 
and  a  privilege  t.o  advocate,  would  have  been 
most  repulsive  to  my  feelings  to  join.  Indeed, 
such  was  my  contempt  for  the  system  altogether, 
that  I  often  pronounced  it  to  be  a  mockery  of 
common  sense ;  and  at  the  same  time  frequently 
asserted  my  belief,  that  nothing  could  be  more 
likely  than  the  restraint  of  a  public  pledge  to  cre- 
ate an  immediate  inclination  to  break  it. 

"  For  two  years — years,  1  may  say,  of  total 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  67 

ignorance  on  this  point,  during  which  I  took  no 
pains  to  make  myself  better  informed,  I  treated 
the  subject  with  the  utmost  contempt  whenever 
it  was  brought  under  my  notice.  By  degrees, 
however,  it  began  to  wear  a  different  aspect  be- 
fore the  world  in  general,  and  facts  were  too 
powerful  in  its  favor  to  be  disputed.  By  degrees 
also  it  began  to  assume  with  me  somewhat 
more  of  a  personal  character.  I  could  not  see 
how  I  was  right  while  indulging  in  what  was  so 
fearfully  destructive  to  others,  and  to  some  whom 
I  had  known  and  loved.  Yet  such  was  the  force 
of  habit;  such  my  willingness  to  believe  what 
doctors  told  me,  that  wine  was  necessary  to  my 
health,  at  that  time  far  from  good ;  and  such  also 
was  my  dependence  upon  stimulants,  for  increas- 
ing the  strength  of  which  I  often  felt  miserably 
in  want,  that  three  years  more  elapsed  before  I 
had  the  resolution  to  free  myself  practically,  en- 
tirely, and  I  now  trust,  for  ever,  from  the  slavery 
of  this  dangerous  habit. 

"  Four  years  of  total  abstinence  from  every- 
thing of  an  intoxicating  nature,  it  has  now  been 
my  happy  lot  to  experience  j  and  if  the  improve- 
ment in  my  health  and  spirits,  and  the  increase 
of  my  strength  during  that  time,  be  any  proof  in 


68  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

favor  of  the  practice,  I  am  one  of  those  who  ought 
especially  to  thank  God  for  the  present,  and  take 
courage  for  the  future. 

"  Like  many  other  women,  and  especially  those 
who  are  exempt  from  the  necessity  of  active  ex- 
ertion, I  was,  while  in  the  habit  of  taking  wine 
for  my  health,  subject  to  almost  constant  suffer- 
ing from  a  mysterious  kind  of  sinking,  which  ren- 
dered me  at  times  wholly  unfit  either  for  mental 
or  bodily  effort,  but  which  I  always  found  to  be 
removed  by  a  glass  of  wine.  My  spirits,  too, 
partook  of  the  malady,  for  I  was  equally  subject 
to  fits  of  depression,  which  also  were  relieved,  in 
some  degree,  by  the  same  remedies.  During  the 
four  years  in  which  I  have  now  entirely  abstained 
from  the  use  of  such  remedies,  1  have  been  a  to- 
tal stranger  to  these  distressing  sensations  of  sink- 
ing and  exhaustion  ;  and  I  say  this  with  thank- 
fulness, because  I  consider  such  aliments  infinitely 
more  trying  than  absolute  pain. 

"  One  single  effort  conscientiously  and  prompt- 
ly made,  will  enable  you  to  pass  through  all  the 
duties  of  social  intercourse  better  without  such 
stimulants  than  with  them.  I  will  not  pretend 
to  say,  as  some  do,  that  the  effort  is  easily  made. 
We  forget  the  weakness  of  human  nature  when 


HANNAH    HAWKINS.  69 

we  call  it  easy ;  but  I  will  say,  that  the  difficulty 
is  all  in  anticipation,  and  in  the  lengthened  drag- 
ging out  of  a  half-formed  purpose.  Two  years 
of  trial  I  myself  endured  in  this  manner,  before 
my  resolution  was  fully  carried  out ;  but  no  soon- 
er was  an  entire  surrender  made  of  inclination  to 
a  sense  of  duty,  than  all  temptation  vanished,  all 
trial  was  at  an  end  ;  while  the  act  of  totally  ab- 
staining became  so  perfectly  easy  as  to  call  forth 
no  other  feelings  than  those  of  gratitude  and  joy, 
that  I  was  thus  enabled,  for  the  sake  of  others, 
to  share  in  the  self-denials  of  the  tempted,  and 
the  privations  of  the  poor." 

And  if  any  parent  or  Christian  has  any  hesi- 
tancy on  the  point  before  us,  the  writer  begs 
their  attention  to  the  following  paragraphs,  from 
the  author  of  Anti-Bacchus,  a  minister  of  the 
gospel,  and  who  has  spent  no  small  amount  of 
time  and  talent  in  the  investigation  of  this  subject : 

"  Let  us  look  round  our  congregations,  and 
enumerate  those  opening  buds  of  promise  which 
have  been  withered  and  blasted,  and  let  us  in- 
quire also  into  the  influence  which  destroyed  our 
hopes,  and  the  peace  and  respectability  of  the 
offenders,  and  we  shall  find  that  in  ninety-nine 
cases  out  of  a  hundred,  these  drinks  have  been 


70  HANK  AH    HAWKINS. 

. 

the  remote  or  proximate  cause.  I  have  seen  the 
youthful  professor,  whose  zeal,  talent,  respecta- 
bility, and  consistent  piety,  have  promised  much 
to  the  church  and  the  world,  led  on  from  mode- 
rate to  immoderate  draughts,  in  the  end  become 
a  tippler,  dismissed  from  the  church,  disowned 
by  his  friends,  himself  a  nuisance  to  society,  and 
his  family  in  rags.  I  have  seen  the  generous 
tradesman,  by  whose  zeal  for  the  gospel,  and  at 
whose  expense,  too,  the  ministers  of  religion  have 
been  introduced  into  a  destitute  village,  and 
eventually  a  house  erected  for  God,  and  a  flou- 
rishing church  formed,  himself  excluding  himself 
by  his  love  of  strong  drink.  Would  to  God  these 
instances  were  solitary !  But,  alas !  they  are 
not.  Almost  every  church  and  every  minister 
have  to  weep  over  spiritual  hopes  blasted,  and 
Christianity  outraged  by  these  drinks. 

"  We  must  here  also  observe,  that  if  but  one 
member  of  the  church  had  backslidden,  if  but  one 
angel  of  the  church  had  fallen,  or  but  one  hope- 
ful convert  had  been  lost,  through  the  use  of  al- 
coholic drinks,  the  thought  that  only  one  had 
been  betrayed  and  corrupted,  ought  to  make  us 
resolve  to  abstain.  The  consideration  that  what 
had  destroyed  one  might  injure  many,  would, 


HANNAH    HAWKINS,      i  71 

were  not  our  hearts  more  than  usually  hard, 
prompt  us  to  vow  never  to  touch  or  taste  again. 
But  we  have  not  to  tell  of  one,  but  of  many,  that 
have  been  ruined.  The  hopeful  ministers  of  the 
sanctuary  who  have  fallen  are  not  a  few.  And 
as  to  members  and  young  people  of  the  highest 
promise,  who  have  been  lost  to  the  church  through 
this  practice,  these  might  be  counted  by  thou- 
sands." 

The  writer  is  happy  to  say,  in  conclusion,  that 
the  father  of  Hannah  is  still  active  in  the  good 
cause  of  temperance,  and  holds  himself,  as  a  brand 
plucked  from  the  buining,  at  the  service  of  Him 
who  has  so  mercifully  saved  him.  In  a  letter 
from  him,  received  a  short  time  since,  he  says — 

"  I  am  still  travelling,  and  doing  all  the  good 
I  can,  in  my  weakness,  for  the  poor  drunkard.  1 
have  witnessed  many,  very  many  happy  scenes 
of  reformation.  I  long  to  see  you,  to  talk  to  you 
and  relate  some  of  them  to  you.  I  know  they 
would  warm  your  heart.  I  have  travelled  since 
March,  1841,  over  17,000  miles,  and  delivered 
over  700  addresses,  and  these  not  very  short. 
You  may  judge  from  this  that  my  labor  has  been 
very  great.  But  what  is  it  for  ?  Thanks  be  to 
God  for  the  thought — it  is  for  the  reformation  of 


72  HANNAH    HAWKINS. 

the  poor  drunkard  and  the  ultimate  salvation  ol 
his  soul.  Some  would  say,  there  is  too  much  re- 
ligion in  this*  Oh,  how  can  any  say  so,  espe- 
cially any  reformed  drunkard,  when  he  owes 
gratitude  to  God  for  every  drop  of  water  he 
drinks  ?" 

That  the  time  may  speedily  come  when  no 
family  shall  ever  be  afflicted  with  a  poor  unfor- 
tunate inebriate ;  when  the  destroyer,  which  has 
swept  its  30,000,  year  after  year,  into  the  drunk- 
ard's grave,  shall  be  expelled  from  our  land  and 
the  world,  and  when  temperance,  purity,  peace, 
and  righteousness  shall  everywhere  prevail,  must 
surely  be  the  sincere  wish  of  every  philanthro 
pist,  patriot,  and  Christian.  Let  all  do  their  duty, 
and  we  shall  soon  witness  and  enjoy  this  blessed 
period. 


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